


Kintsugi Of The Soul

by J_D_McCormick



Series: Heart On Your Sleeve, Soul By Your Side [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Daemon Separation, Fun Times Combining Lazarus Pits and Daemon Bonds, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 09:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/pseuds/J_D_McCormick
Summary: He can’t feel her the way he used to, the instinctive synchronization of person and daemon. It’s like being repaired with gold, like there are chips that can never be recovered, like there’s some small barrier between them that he just can’t push past.
Series: Heart On Your Sleeve, Soul By Your Side [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545694
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Kintsugi Of The Soul

**Author's Note:**

> As far as this AU of mine goes, Jason is the first person who's daemon has been cut to be revived by Lazarus Pit - the effect is somewhat similar to the concept of the witches in HDM, in that it makes his daemon able to separate from him far beyond normal distances. He's since inspired the League of Assassins to take this on as a regular practice; cutting a person from their daemon, then bathing them in the pit, so that they don't die from the separation but the desired effects still occur.
> 
> How was Joker able to cut Jason from his daemon? Who knows! But it seems like the kind of fucked up thing he might do to torture Jason.
> 
> Jason's daemon is Iphegeneia, a lionness.

There used to be a time when Iphegeneia was the only thing Jason had. It was him and her against the world; a boy and his daemon, tooth and claw against everything trying to take them down.

He remembers days scavenging in dumpsters and parks with her; cold nights with her fur keeping him warm; fights when she had earned him freedom. Endless hours, talking and holding each other, soaking up each other’s company. With Iphegeneia, if nothing else, Jason knew he would never be alone.

Then he died.

But he didn’t just die. He remembers a cold, terrifying, sickly hour, where it had been him. Him and him alone. Iphegeneia not in his arms, not in his sight; not being able to feel the gentle pulse of her presence, the soothing of her through their bond, no hint of her voice or her warmth anywhere. His last memory is of grasping desperately at Bruce’s cloak, barely able to see or hear his father over the ice daggers in his throat and the desperate plea, _Where is Gen? Where’s Genny, please, where is she, I want Gen, my Iphegeneia, where is she…. _

And God, it would have been bad enough to die, but to be without her? It still wakes him up in cold sweats, still makes him sick at just the thought. There had been a terrible emptiness in him, a hole where something vital should have been – like his heart had been neatly cut from his body and he was still somehow stood, gasping for air.

Now, he’s here. Iphegeneia is with him, her heavy warmth lounged across his lap, her ears flicking idly as she grooms a paw; but there is so much distance. He can’t feel her the way he used to, the instinctive synchronization of person and daemon. He doesn’t feel the tug, like an elastic band, always drawing her to him, and him to her. The hole in him is filled, but she’s not the perfect puzzle piece he remembers her being. It’s like being repaired with gold, like there are chips that can never be recovered, like there’s some small barrier between them that he just can’t push past.

“You’re quiet.” Iphegeneia murmurs, pressing her nose up under his jaw. He turns into the contact, threading his hands through her fur. “What are you thinking of?”

“I miss you.” Jason says, without thinking. She blinks at him, shifting a little to meet his eyes.

“I’m right here Jay.” She says.

“Yeah. But do you- Do you remember how it used to be?” Jason’s throat is thick without his permission. “Back when- Before. When we were little.”

He watches as Iphegeneia’s ears flatten back a little, her whole body sagging, a mirror of the sorrow deep through his veins.

“Yes.” The reply is a breath. Her paws knead gently at his thigh. “I used to sleep on your shoulder. And hide in your pocket.”

Jason laughs quietly. “Yeah.”

“I used to always know how you were feeling.” She continues. “I could always tell, whether you needed me to fight, or hold you back, or wrap around you and stay there. I heard your heart singing to me, always.”

“But not now.”

“Still now!” Iphegeneia’s voice is firm, her weight pinning him. “But… softer. Quiet.”

“You feel so far away.” Jason says, and damn him, he’s crying, but it just _hurts_. “Even when you’re right here, I can’t feel you like I used to.”

“I’m still here, just like always.” Iphegeneia soothes him. She sits up, starts running her sandpaper tongue through his hair. Jason presses desperately to her chest, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here, and I always will be. I’m yours, Jason, and you’re mine. You and me.”

“Against the world.” He mumbles into her fur. Her laugh is a rumble.

“Against the world. We’ll win. We always do.” She says, continuing to groom him. He presses her close, until her entire weight is on his chest, until they are pressed together inch to inch. He wonders if maybe, if he presses close enough, he’ll be able to take her back into his chest and keep her there. Tie the ends of that elastic band back together so that they snap back into place.

“I’m still with you Jason.” She soothes, as he feels himself fall into uneasy sleep. “I won’t go anywhere.”

He dreams of golden rope and unbreakable knots, of a lioness whose heart sings louder and louder until he can hear it like his own, and a deep warmth that soothes him to his core. He sleeps soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> There's something poetic, probably, about Jason and the concept of kintsugi, but honestly that came afterwards. Mostly, I thought about the fact that though the reparations look pretty, pieces must be lost to achieve the aesthetic, and the idea of a golden barrier separating two pieces that used to be joined. I wanted to try using the metaphor from a more negative perspective - though of course, it can be turned positive with perspective.
> 
> However, the philosophy of wabi-sabi and the acceptance of imperfection is probably something that connects wonderfully with Jason as a character.
> 
> Thank you for reading, any and all feedback as always super appreciated!!


End file.
